


Come Sit On My Lap

by theunsweetenedtruth



Category: Black Panther (2018)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-21
Updated: 2019-01-21
Packaged: 2019-10-14 01:09:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17498780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theunsweetenedtruth/pseuds/theunsweetenedtruth
Summary: Requests from Tumblr: ooohhh! nsfw sentence: “come sit on my lap” with T’challa and Spanking





	Come Sit On My Lap

T'Challa was working a lot lately, leaving you lonely in the palace. He didn't come to bed at night, preferring to sleep on the chaise in his office, and the sweet messages he'd used to woo you had tapered off to messages that he wouldn't make it to dinner. If he did make it, he scarfed his food down before returning to his office. And his assistant. You thought you were gonna have a Beyoncé moment, go out in a smaller dress than you normally, meet up with your wildest friends, and flirt with men. It felt nice to get the attention that you weren't getting at home. 

What you didn't account for was your king knowing your every move and sending the Dora Milaje to remove you from the bar.

"Ma'am. We are here to ensure your safe return home, per the King's orders." You saw through Ayo's nice words.

"If T'Challa wants me home, he will come get me himself." The drunk, idiotic man next to you shouted loud encouragements that had you holding back your winces. There was nothing more you wanted to do than go home to him but it was the _principal_ of things. If T'Challa was done with you, you wanted to hear from him instead of being ignored and forgotten.

Ayo exchanged a look with the other Dora with her before turning and exiting the bar. Tears filled your eyes unfoundedly; you had no need to be crying when you decided not to leave with them. But it was typical T'Challa, getting others to do the dirty work when it came to you. You lost count of how many dates he had sent Ayo to cancel, how many gifts he had sent with Okoye to make up for it. If he wanted to be done with you he'd have to do it himself.

You spent the next hour drowning your sorrows in Wakandan liquor and fending off the handsy idiot from earlier. Your friends had left at the appearance of the Dora Milaje and you rolled your eyes. They weren't real friends, just women who wanted to be close to you to be close to T'Challa. He'd probably replace you with one of them as soon as you got your shit out his palace.

The door to the bar flung open and the room got eerily quiet, except for the man who was still trying to get you to leave with him. You didn't look to see who came in. The bottle of liquor you'd asked the bartender to leave with you was more interesting than whatever had everyone's attention.

Big. Mistake.

Before you knew what had happened, your stool was spun around and you were face to face with an angry T'Challa. All you were able to get out was a "hey" before he'd hauled you over his shoulder. Your stomach lurched with the sudden movement but you were more concerned with not exposing your bits to the entire bar. You heard the protests of the man who'd kept you company before you say him get mushed to the ground by T'Challa as he carried you out. There was no more from you. You knew what he was like in moments like this. This wasn't gonna end cute like the end of the Jealous video where Beyoncé and Jay Z met in the middle of the street, kissed, and made up.

As he threw you into the back of the limo, your head spun with all the alcohol you'd drunk.

"Kuthatha ixesha elide (take the long way back)," he said gruffly before rolling the partition up. You stared at him across the back and he eyed you, from the dress you had on to the high heels he'd never seen and didn't know you owned. You both were at an impasse, neither of you willing to be the first to break the heavy silence. T'Challa broke first-- _as he should have_ your mind said.

"What are you thinking going out here dressed like this?"

"I didn't think you would care, your highness," you crossed your arms over your chest. You watched his eyes flicker to your breasts spilling out over the top of your dress and you smirked. His eyes hardened at your smirk before he gave one of his own

" **Come sit on my lap** ," he ordered and you hesitated to follow. The changes in his mood were giving you whiplash. "I won't tell you again, entle." You moved slowly across the seats to where he was sitting before perching on his knee. Quickly, you were flipped into the position you wanted, across his lap, his hardness poking into your stomach. One arm held you securely over his lap while the other hand explored under your dress.

"Mka," he growled and the curse made your bare pussy jump. "You enjoy getting me upset, don't you entle? You've come out to this bar, wearing this dress, with no underwear, entertaining some man--"

"I wasn't entertaining him," you struggled in his grasp. A sharp sting hit you on your behind and you cried out in surprise.

"Do not interrupt me when I am speaking. That was your only warning for the night." You wisely kept your mouth shut as he rubbed your ass, his large hand palming one cheek before switching to the other and back. He dipped his fingers to test your wetness and you tried to stifle your moans in his thigh. Underneath you, you felt his dick grow in your stomach and you moved to provide you both with some relief.

"I am going to spank you for your behavior this evening." He pumped his fingers slowly in and out of you and your eyes rolled back at the feeling. "Twenty hits. After each one, you will count and thank me." He removed his fingers and went back to rubbing your cheeks to prepare them for the lashings. "Ready?" he asked for your acquiesce.

"Yes, your highness," you said. This was what you wanted all along. Him to take notice and give you that release you'd both been missing lately.

The wind whistled as his hand cut through the air and pain blossomed through you.

"One! Thank you, your highness." You tried to hold your cries back but as the counts went on, the pain increased until you were all but shouting your gratefulness. When you reached twenty, T'Challa turned you again so that you straddled him. Just as the pain had increased, so had your arousal until you were making a wet stain on his trousers. T'Challa's arousal had not dissipated either; instead he was hard and heavy between your legs.

Looking up him, his pupils were blown wide, his breathing heavy. You unbuckled and unzipped his trousers, freeing him, and guided him into you. The moans you both let out made you grateful for the soundproof car and tinted windows. You rose onto your knees, letting him slip out a little before sitting back on his lap and feeling him renter you. You rode him slow and he matched your pace with strong thrusts up into you and made your breath catch in your throat. Swiveling your hips, he hit a spot in you that made you shake.

"Fuck," you whispered into his ear.

"Yeah, like that?" His voice was gruff as he angled his hips to hit that spot over again. You were full of him and it was so good and tears came to your eyes at how good it was.

"Shit, you are so wet, usana. You grip me so well." You moaned in response. "Is it me who has you like this? You are this wet for your king?" His hand came down on your ass again and you tightened around him and picked up speed.

"Yes..yes. Fuck. Only for you T'Challa, fuck." You felt yourself coming around him. "Come on baby. I want you to come inside me," you moaned through your orgasm as you continued to ride him.

He shuddered in your arms, a growl crawling out from deep in his throat. "You want me to come in you? Make you carry my heirs?" Your first orgasm bled into your second and your pussy gripped him until he was coming too. "Shit, usana." He held you tightly as he jerked his hips up into you, once, twice, emptying himself. You shook in his arms trying to come down from your high.

You looked out the window and saw the lights from the palace. You tried to get off of his lap but T'Challa held you in place. You turned to him and saw him looking up at you with the saddest expression.

"I am sorry, mnandi. I have been neglectful of you."

You nodded. "I'm sorry too. I should have tried harder to talk to you instead of being a brat. You're king now. You don't have all the time to spend with me anymore." You were saddened by this truth but resigned to the fact that you loved this long and didn't want to lose him.

"I will do my best to do better," he brushed your now frizzy twist out out of your face. You smiled and pressed your lips to his. It was all you could ask for.

 

 


End file.
